Ghost Town
by Lady Anarane
Summary: Mackenzie has no recollection of being the famous pirate companion to Jack Sparrow, but then again, she has not much recollection of anything at all. Her memory is suspiciously lost, giving every enemy of hers and Jack's the chance of a lifetime; revenge.
1. Into The Shadows

Disclaimer: I do not own "Pirates of the Caribbean" or the character Jack Sparrow.

**Chapter One- "Into the Shadows" **

They were on her tail now. She could hear them quickly approaching, the shouting soldiers and the pounding of horse shoes. They were going to catch her any moment now and take her away in irons. They will hang her by morning. She could see it before her eyes, the way the crowd would clap and cheer, so proud of their act of redemption- executing the criminals. And that's the part that bothered her most: she wasn't a criminal. The very thought of someone being proud of her pale and lifeless body, the noose around her neck and the swinging of her legs nearly made Mackenzie keel over and vomit.

She hadn't seen it because of the black sky, but she felt it as her heel caught in the groove between two stones on the paved ground, throwing her foreword. The pounding was getting dangerously closer; and that's when she felt fingers wrap around her thin arm and pull her into the shadows.

Mackenzie's instincts told her to yell out, to fight against the intruder. When she began to thrash away from them, they held her closer, tighter. A rough palm flew to her lips and pressed down, not trying to suffocate but to keep her from being heard. "Shh," they told her, the voice deep and rough. A man.

She went still. He was not hurting her but holding her taught, hiding her from prying eyes and strangely protecting her. Mackenzie listened as the soldiers went by, their eyes searching and the horses galloping. Somehow, they had not seen her hiding in the black of the night.

After a long moment, the man released her. "What have you gotten yourself into now?" He asked in a worried but slightly amused tone.

"Excuse me?" she replied, completely baffled. Had he just saved her life? It had seemed so, but she could not think of a reason why a stranger would do such a thing. Was he looking for a reward?

He stepped forward, to which Mackenzie stepped back. This went on for a long moment, until she was illuminated by the moonlight and could see his face clearly. He was most handsome, with rugged features and passionate eyes. The blue coat and tri-cornered hat he wore was slightly weathered, but the unfamiliar sight of his strange look and searching gaze was what troubled her most.

"What do you want?" Mackenzie demanded from him. She was so tired. "I don't have any money."

His brown eyes narrowed at her sharply. "I don't want your money."

She was shaking; she was so frightened and beat. "Then what do you want? I have nothing to offer you."

The man did not exactly look truly and completely confused. "So the rumors are true, then. You do not remember a thing."

Something in Mackenzie's stomach sank and burned from his words. His eyes were so damn familiar. "Do I know you?"

"Apparently not," the man replied. "But I sure as hell know you."

The blood in her head was buzzing in her ears. "What is your name?"

"Jack Sparrow," he complied, "Captain of the _Black Pearl_."

The _Black Pearl_... suddenly, a bell rang between her ears. Did she truly know him? Did he somehow know that she was lost in this town, without any family or friends, without any memories? Was he taking advantage of her situation?

He gave Mackenzie a look. "What do you remember?"

She was reluctant to respond. "Yesterday."

"And before that?"

It took her a moment, but she managed to whisper quietly, "Not much of anything."

Captain Jack Sparrow nodded, somewhat sadly. He had feared this. The rumors were spreading, like the wanted signs with their names and faces, how his lass and companion had gone missing and somehow returned with no memory, no recall of her name or face. She was helpless. And this sent every enemy of hers and Jack's into a frenzy; revenge would be easy for them now. He came as soon as he could get to her.

"It wasn't easy to track you down, darling, I'll give you that." Captain Sparrow said to her, looking her over with concerned eyes. Her skirts were torn from her fall on the stones only a few feet away and there was a large cut across her temple, a look in her blue eyes of fear and her usual golden skin a milky white. He swallowed thickly; she was a mess.

He tried stepping closer to her once again, but she was having none of it. He sighed unhappily as she backed away, nearly falling over a broken crate. He caught her before she had the chance to fall, but let go of her as soon as her shoes were steadily on the ground. If he wanted to help Mackenzie, he would have to gain your trust, it would seem.

"What happened, pet?"

Something about that handsome face told her to tell him the truth. It was like a force she could not control, this yearning to tell him everything and allow him to take her away; to fix her. "He came after me. I didn't even see him... he came out of nowhere."

"Someone attacked you?" Jack asked with a creased brow. It would seem this pirate is honestly concerned for her wellbeing. She nodded, still on edge. She was watching every word she spoke to him. "I'd never seen him before."

He thought about this for a moment. "He tried to kill you?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Mackenzie decided. He was asking too many questions, and honestly, it was making her nervous. What did he want from her?

Jack Sparrow was in absolute awe. She honestly didn't remember him. This wasn't an act or a joke, a ploy to get back at him for their last encounter. A month ago, the last time he'd seen her [she looked so different now] the two of them had fought endlessly throughout the night [he can't even remember why] and she stormed out. The next morning, Mackenzie was gone. She could often be very overdramatic, and he hadn't seen her since. But now... now she was right in front of him, and he couldn't even hold her. He couldn't make right of his wrongs or kiss her lips. It was driving him up a wall.

Then he said her name, almost as a request, and her eyes snapped up. There was something in the way he said it, with such prayer and craving that made her heart twist in her chest. Something about this man was so wrong and right at the very same time. She didn't know what to do.

"Get away from me," she told him quietly.

His brow creased in frustration. "Darling..."

"Stop," Mackenzie said, holding out her hand in demonstration as he came closer.

"Where are you going to go?" Jack demanded. "They'll find you, lass. They'll find you and lock you up, and you'll have no way out. They'll hang you before noon. Do you want that?"

He was making everything so much more complicated. She just wanted to go home [where is home?] and rest. She needed it, for she felt about to collapse with exhaustion. And Jack knew this. He could see it with the way her graceful limbs moved, the way the bruises on her skin glowed in the moonlight.

As he reached for her once last time, and a small pistol was revealed from beneath her cloak. "Stay away," she told him again, aiming at his frame.

Needless to say, the captain of the Black Pearl gave up for the time being. He followed her in the shadows as she lurked along the edge of town, leading him to a small tavern he knew quite well: à Contre-courant [against the tide]. He watched through the crowd as she climbed the stairs. He followed, watching from the edge of the banister as she approached the last room in the hall. She knocked swiftly, waiting nervously and wringing her hands. She always was impatient. Then, after a long moment, the door opened. Jack couldn't see the person letting her inside from his angle on the stairwell, but he did see a muscular arm reach out and touch her hand as he pulled her inside.

Instantly, a flood of jealousy washed over him. Another man was in Mackenzie's life? Jack's jaw hardened, his fingers curling into fists. Should he blame her? After all, she had no recollection of the past, or of him. And this made him even angrier. How was he going to fix this?

Well first, he was going to take care of that bastard in the room with her. Jack descended back down the stairs, making his way down toward the barkeep. "Name of the man staying in the second room upstairs," he demanded.

It was most definitely not a question, the man behind the bar noted, but he was under strict orders. "I apologize sir, I cannot-"

Suddenly, his feet were off the ground, the infamous pirate's hands holding him up by his collar and his eyes a fiery black. "His name," Jack Sparrow growled.

"Kail McGrath," the man squeaked. He was known easily to crack under pressure.

Captain Sparrow was so shocked by this information that he dropped the barkeep completely, the man falling with a mad thump to the floor. Kail McGrath? No, this had to be a mistake. Mackenzie despised Kail McGrath! And most importantly, Jack did as well!

And then, suddenly it all made perfect sense. She didn't remember. She had no memory of McGrath putting two bullets in his chest or the scars he left on her body. She was abed for weeks after the ambush Kail and his men had wreaked upon the Black Pearl. Kail had nearly beaten her to death [it was a good fight until the end. Kail was just as bloody and worn down as she], and left her a crimson dormant heap upon the deck of Jack's ship; it was a warning sign, McGrath had said. It was just all part of the game.

Revenge, Jack considered. Maybe that is what this is all about; McGrath was using her to get back at him. And it was working. It suspiciously appeared that she was sleeping with the enemy.

Despite her longings, Mackenzie did not tell Kail about meeting Captain Jack Sparrow in the alley. He knew about the flee from the soldiers, knew about the fight and the man who had jumped her from out of nowhere. He had heard the word and the gossip from downstairs, but had not been surprised when she showed at his door. She had a lucky streak running throughout her veins. Somehow, you always escaped.

She was quiet, her eyes a bit wide with uncertain fear. "I didn't know where else to go."

Kail grinned, and there was no trace of sleep in his eyes. She found it strange that it was the middle of the night and yet he had not laid down for rest. With a slight wrinkle to her brow, she glanced over at the bed. The covers were not even turned down.

"I expected as much," Kail replied, and looked her bruised and weary form over with a curious eye. "What happened this time?"

"This time?" Mackenzie repeated, no doubt confused. "Is it normal for this to happen?"

"For you to come home with random scrapes and bruises? Yes," he told her, signaling for her to take a seat at the edge of the bed. She complied, and watched with bright blue eyes as he walked confidently over to the wash basin, a white cloth in hand. "You are always getting yourself into some type of trouble."

The few minutes she had spent in that alley with Jack Sparrow quickly flashed in her head. He had questioned something similar; what trouble she had gotten herself into this time. Mackenzie frowned; why did it seem that everyone was assuming she was getting herself into a mess?

"A man attacked me as I was walking past an alley by the docks," she explained to him.

Suddenly, Kail froze. "Did I not tell you to stay away from the docks?"

She was a bit bewildered at his cold tone. "You did. But something drew me there anyway; a memory. Well, it was close, anyway. A keen sense of familiarity… That's good, right?"

"Do not go back there," he told her. "Do you hear me?"

He had told her many times to stay away from the docks, and yet with still no explanation. Mackenzie did not understand; why did he want her to stay away from there? Did something happen there that he did not want her to know about? Perhaps he was fearful that she will remember something he only wants her to forget.

"I hear you, but I still do not understand. Why are the docks so horrible?"

Kail sighed in frustration. "You and a certain captain who is known to dock his ship there do not get along. If he realizes you no longer have any memory... well, he could take advantage of his personal vendettas against you. Do you understand now?"

A bit timidly [it was so unlike her], she nodded. But yet, she still had more questions to ask. "What is his name?"

Her curiosity once again drifted back to the handsome man who had saved her life earlier that night. Could he be the captain Kail was speaking of? But if he disliked her, why would he have done such a thing? Wouldn't he have enjoyed to see an enemy taken away and locked up, only to be executed the next morning? Or was he saving her fate to end himself?

Kail walked over, the cloth now soaked in water from the basin. He kneeled on the floor before her, brushing the auburn hair from her forehead. The cut there had left a trickle of dried blood across her white skin, but it did not look any worse than a simple scrape. "What?"

"The man's name, the captain with the vendetta?" Mackenzie replied.

Something briefly flashed across his dark eyes, but as soon as she noticed it, the spite and anger from his orbs were gone without a trace. "His name is best to remain unsaid."

Kail leaned forward, gently dabbing the cut with the cloth. The blood cleaned quickly and stung unpleasantly, but she did not flinch nor move under his ministrations. Perhaps she was used to such aid? "Like Macbeth," Mackenzie said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why is it that you remember books you've read and how to use a pistol, but yet you do not even recognize your own name?"

"I don't know," she answered quietly, recollecting the sound of her name as the pirate had said it earlier that night. It sounded different when he said it… and all though she did not understand, it sounded very pleasant. "I just do."

Kail was silent for a moment, and then tossed the cloth back into the wash basin. He was watching her intently, almost urgently. Those green eyes moved down from her eyes to her jaw, slowly following the pale skin until they reached her lips. She was known for her infamous beauty everywhere from gossip in the taverns to the books and stories told about the reckless adventures aboard the Black Pearl and for her love affair with that damned Jack Sparrow. Suddenly, that dangerous look returned to Kail's eyes. She was that wretched man's lass, and he had gone almost as far as killing her in spite of him. But now, he was going to elicit a fight to the end with the pirate a different way.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing almost harshly against hers. Caught off guard, she leaned back, her eyes narrowed in confusion and question. "What are you doing?" she asked him, her voice almost a whisper.

"Just close your eyes," he told her. "It's all right. Doesn't this seem familiar to you?"

He knew she was anything but virginal. She was the lover to a man who was known around the world for his various lusts and talents in these areas. Surely this didn't feel unknown to her.

But, somehow, it did. His kiss did not feel right, did not feel as though she imagined it should. The moment his lips touched hers a wave of guilt and nausea washed over her. Did it always feel this way? Feeling extremely lost and somewhat at his will, she did as he told her. Her almond eyes fluttered closed and suddenly she felt very vulnerable. And this emotion did not wear well on her.

Kail's lips kissed hers again before moving to her neck, his caresses cold and somewhat thoughtless. They did not feel intimate but unkind, almost sending her body into a wave of panic. It was enough feeling constantly lost and uncertain, but it was worse when she felt as though she had no control. Mackenzie did not want to be here, did not want him touching her. And yet, she stayed. It was as though she was nailed to the floorboards, her body stiff as a corpse. She was helpless.

"Relax," he whispered in her ear, and she felt his fingertips as they began untying the ribbons on the bodice of her dress. Then his mouth was on hers again, his tongue in her mouth and suddenly she felt so sick that her head was spinning, and all she wanted was to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Mackenzie once again leaned away. "No. Stop, Kail."

He almost laughed. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want. . . this doesn't feel right. I can't."

Slowly, a grin pulled his mouth up. He looked almost happy that he has affected her this way. It disgusted her. "It will in a moment," he told her. "We haven't even begun."

She swallowed thickly as she felt the hot sting of tears raise from your throat to her eyes, but they did not spill over. "I thought I could trust you."

"Who says you can't?"

"Instinct is all I have right now. And my instincts are telling me this isn't right."

He reached for her again, but she quickly backed herself towards the door. "Touch me again and you will not make it out of this room alive."

He laughed again and raised his palms in defense, grinning at her insecurities and yet constant confidence. He supposed nothing would ever change. She can't even remember his face or his name and yet she is still threatening him. And then he watched, part in spite and part in admiration, as she quickly fled from the room.

The moment Mackenzie was outside of that blasted room, she broke out into sobs. She felt so insecure, so used and betrayed. She thought she had one person she could trust, one person that she could turn to in all these millions of miles of strangers. Now she really was alone. She leaned back against the wall, allowing her knees to go weak as she slid sobbing to the floor. Her hands covering her shameful face, she let herself vent her frustrations, her fears and her constant uncertainties into a blanket of warmth.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps. When she looked up under damp eyelashes, she saw that goddamned pirate captain standing before her, a somewhat shocked and unsure expression on his face.

"Didn't I tell you to leave me the hell alone?" Mackenzie demanded from him, her voice weak and breaking from her tears.

He kneeled down before her. "I'm not about to leave you alone like this." Then, he touched her face with slow, gentle fingers, as though he was uncertain whether or not she would allow him to do so. She froze and tensed instantly, although she did not fight against him. It was a simple caress, just a mere touch of his fingertips before the warm caress left instantly, leaving the heat of his skin to slowly fade on her flushed cheek. "What happened?" he asked gently, "Did he..."

Mackenzie swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling most depleted. Her blue eyes closed on their own accord for a long moment, unsure what to do or what to say. "Prove to me that you know me," she said before the words registered.

When she opened her eyes, Jack Sparrow looked anything but the spiteful and horrible man that Kail made him out to be. But it was the feeling of serenity and comfort that washed over your form that really scared her. When around Kail, she did not necessarily feel safe but desperate and unsure.

"How am I to do such a thing when you know nothing of yourself to begin with?" he replied.

Good point. "That is for you to convince me," she replied. Even if he was the enemy, part of her didn't care. She wanted to trust and believe her instincts. She needed this security that he was silently offering her. Mackenzie was so tired of being scared and alone.

"All right," he said, and crouched down before her. "That tattoo on your back? Just below the right shoulder blade? I did that. You squirmed at first, but I eventually talked you into it. Pissed you off by not telling you what it was of. A sparrow," he explained, and raised the sleeve on his right arm to reveal his own tattoo of the bird. "All I asked was for you to trust me."

His eyes were looking at her so closely, so intimately, that she felt utterly naked under his gaze. She fidgeted in a nervous manner. "I didn't realize I had a tattoo," she confessed quietly.

He grinned. "Believe me, darling. It's there."

A sparrow? If he was telling her the truth, then that would mean these close feelings of familiarity and [desire?] intimacy have a large significance. This would mean that she was literally marked as his, his symbol permanently etched deep into her skin.

"Good enough?"

She fought the urge smile at his cocky expression and honest eyes. "Try again," she told him. His lips twitched up into a little smile, and something inside her stomach fluttered. Butterflies.

"You were born in London, your father was a horrible drunk, you loathe the taste of whiskey, your favorite pair of knickers are red, and I gave you the first and only string of pearls you possess." And then, to top it off, he leaned in close to your ear, his lips only centimeters from tasting your skin. "Shall I go on?"

You give him a warning look. "If you are lying to me, Sparrow, I will find out. And it won't be pleasant when I do." [Please be a good enough liar that I do not find a thing to turn against you with.]

He smiled again. "Trust me, love. I know."

It was so tempting to take her at that moment. With her blue eyes shining at him and her cheeks damp with shedding tears. But Jack was sure to control himself, for it would be better for Mackenzie in the end. He wasn't about to take advantage of her because of her current forgetful and obviously disheveled state. She meant more to him than that. And then, he heard footsteps from inside the room behind them.

"Come," he said to her, extending his hand.

She was hesitant, but after a moment she placed her palm in his and he quickly pulled her to her feet and with a hand innocently placed at the small of her back, lead her down the stairs and into the tavern.

It was a complete mess. People were talking most loudly and openly about the murder in the alley, the very alley Mackenzie was in not a half hour ago. They paid no attention to her as she passed, but due to the crowd and enthusiastic storytelling, their exit was delayed longer than what Jack would have hoped.

"I saw it with my own eyes!" one man exclaimed, rising to his feet and extending his arm. "He was huge! Killed the man without seconds thought!"

"Why did he do it?" The woman next to him questioned, her brown eyes wide with curiosity and her painted lips parted.

"Heard the man stepped on the others foot," a sailor replies, nodding his head enthusiastically.

God, these people were sickening, Mackenzie thought. Making up stories and such about the murder that she herself committed in order to entertain themselves. What was wrong with them?

A man from the other side of the room spoke up casually, his uniform pressed and brass buttons nearly sparkling in the candlelight. A soldier. "You all are fools. It wasn't even a man who committed the crime," he told them calmly, taking a sip from his brandy.

"A woman?" one of the barmaids suggested. "You must be mistaken, sir. I heard this was a brutal murder! The beating heart torn from the man's chest! What kind of woman could do that?"

Jack was feeling a bit restless. The soldier was eyeing the two of them closely as they tried to push past to the door, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Surely he did not know who Mackenzie was and what she had done. Did he?

"No," the man replied simply. "It was just a simple shot to the chest. And it -was- a woman; we chased her down the road until she disappeared into the shadows."

"The Lady of Shadows," another piped up. "Did she resemble a crow? I always heard the Lady of Shadows resembled a crow. Real quick too, like a fox, and beautiful like a minx."

But the soldier shook his head. "No, she didn't resemble a crow. She was quick, that's for sure, with white skin and bright eyes. The most ravishing criminal I've ever seen," he said with a grin, his eyes still not moving from Mackenzie. She looked everywhere but at him. The fear washed over her skin; she was shaking.

"Where do you think she is?"

"Maybe she fled to the docks!"

The redcoat was obviously having other thoughts. "Oh, I don't think she's gone too far."

Jack pulled Mackenzie close to his side, wrapping an arm about her waist and spoke close to her ear. "Relax," he whispered. "The bastard doesn't know a thing."

And then, just as the door was in sight, a red uniform appeared before them. "Stop there, miss."

Mackenzie looked up, her eyes giving nothing away. But her shaking hands, they were what she was worried about. She quickly hid them beneath her cloak, quickly pulling them out of sight. Jack was right; this man didn't know a thing. The soldiers had not been close enough to see her face or touch her skin; they had no proof.

"Is there a problem?" Jack said in response. She was shocked. He was protecting her once again?

"You speak for her?" the soldier questioned.

The captain of the Black Pearl nodded. "Aye, I do."

"Are you her husband?"

"Aye," Jack responded once more. What was he up to? She was not wearing a ring; therefore Jack was lying to the officer. What if he asked to see her hand?

"Is she armed?" the soldier asked, his penetrating eyes boring into Mackenzie's.

"Why would she be armed? She has no enemies."

Those icy orbs turned to Jack. "Do _you_?"

She almost expected the pirate to reach out and grab him by the neck, but alas, he did not. "What is the problem here?"

"There was a disturbance earlier. A man was shot and killed down by the docks. My men and I were close by and heard the commotion. We chased a woman who was quickly fleeing the area. Dark hair, blue dress," the man's eyes traveled from Mackenzie's scuffed shoes and over her blue skirts, torn and dirtied. It sure looked as though she had been in a brawl, that was for sure. And the cut on her right temple only made matters worse.

Jack did not like the sight of his wandering eyes on her form. His jaw clenched tightly, but somehow he managed to keep his cool composure. "Nonsense, she has been with me all night, I assure you."

"Upstairs?" he asked. Jack nodded. "What were you doing?"

A sly grin grew on the pirate's face. "Would you really like me to say such things in the presence of ladies?"

The soldier seemed to be quickly running out of patience. "Where did you get that cut upon your forehead, miss?"

You took a nervous breath and were about to open your mouth and reply with a shaky lie when Jack beat you to the chase. "Fell off a horse during our travels here. She hasn't quite got the hang of side saddle just yet."

"Why don't you let the lady speak for herself?" the man questions with a cocky raise of his eyebrow.

Mackenzie swallows. "Tis true, sir. My balance is obviously not something to boast of."

"Is that so?"

She pulled her cloak closer to her skin. She felt so exposed under those accusing eyes and blaming voice as she nodded in response. "Yes, sir."

"So let me get this straight… you are accusing my wife of committing this crime simply because of the color of her hair and the dress she picked out this morning?" Jack complies.

The soldier looks anything but offended. "I am not accusing anyone of anything, mister. . ."

"Smith," Jack says instantly.

". . .Smith. I am just asking innocent questions. Tis my job, you see."

Jack, in return, does not look in the least bit intimidated. "Perhaps you should be finding the person whom murdered that poor bastard instead of interrogating an innocent woman," he suggested.

And then, Jack leads said guilty woman out the door, leaving the soldier to stand in silence. He knows nothing, Mackenzie reminded herself. They will not arrest her if they have no proof. She will not hang before the sun comes up. In fact, she doesn't believe Jack would let them. And that thought gave her a little more confidence in the man walking beside her. If he didn't care, if he only wanted her dead, then why would he be going through all the trouble to save her life?

"Why are you doing this?" she questioned him once they were out of hearing rage from the tavern.

"I told you, darling," Jack replied, "I'm not about to leave you alone like this."

Alone? Frightened? Clueless? Yes, that was how she had been feeling since she woke up in that alley weeks ago, absolutely no memory as to who or where she was. It was a few hours later when she ran into a man who claimed to be Kail McGrath, an old friend of hers. But now, she was not so sure he was a friend at all.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To an inn outside of town," he replied. Mackenzie tensed at the thought. Was he expecting the same as Kail was? But then, he added, "You tired?"

Jack could see how exhausted she looked. He glanced at the way her posture relaxed a bit out of the corner of his eye, the way her lips parted to release an almost silent breath of air. Had she assumed he was taking her to the inn to do otherwise? Of course she had; and the pirate captain didn't blame her. After all, if she was _herself,_ that's exactly what he'd be doing; making love to her until daybreak, until the very moment she would beg him to stop, until she was on the brink of insanity. Jack dug his fingers into his palms with the thought. It's what he very much wanted to do. But as he looked at her thin and spent form, he reminded himself that this would take some time. _She_ would take some time.


	2. Cross Me Heart

**Chapter Two - "Cross Me Heart"**

Jack lead Mackenzie inside the inn, holding the door open as she walked past him and inside. The walls were illuminated with the gold of several lit lanterns and candles about the room and the fire in the hearth only a few feet away. [She always did look like a mystery in the lamplight.]

As Jack approached the desk in the corner of the room, he frowned at the man who sat behind it, his bloodshot eyes watching her and a small grin on his face. "We need a room," the pirate told him through gold teeth, a slight growl to his warning tone.

But the man paid no heed. "Of course you do," he commented, still leering with suspicious interest at Mackenzie. She folded her arms under her cloak, feeling strange and uncomfortable under that gaze. "Ain't you a pretty little thing?" he said with a smile, his eyes moving from her long, auburn hair and over soft curves, across snow white skin and her torn skirts to her shoes. "Young, too. I know some sailors in these parts who'd paid handsomely for-"

Jack's eyes were nearly black with snapping control as he reached over and grabbed the man by his collar, yanking him to his feet. "We need a room," he repeated in a deep voice, his jaw clenched and patience no more. "Now."

"All right, all right," the man said, nearly falling to the floor as Jack released the death grip on his shirt. He clamored around for a key. Once finding it, he handed it to the pirate and nearly backed away, holding his palms up in a wordless surrender. "Last room on the right."

Jack reached back and touched Mackenzie's arm. "Come on," he said, and walked just behind her as she began down one of the halls, his palm flat against her back. She was silent, and honestly, a bit shaken. She hadn't expected to see him lash out at the man in such a way. He was being protective, as though she was his lass and he wouldn't allow any man to think otherwise. Somehow, it made her feel most safe and secure.

Unlocking the door to the room, the door swung open calmly as she entered, breathing in the darkness and enveloping it like a blanket. Mackenzie liked the dark for its mysterious nature, for the comfort it nearly promised, but yet she feared its monsters all the same.

"Do you think they are still looking for me?" she asked as Jack lit a candle by the window.

He looked over at her scratched face and frowned at the weary gleam to her blue irises. "No," he lied. "They've most likely given up by now. You're safe here, love, that I promise you."

And that was a promise he could keep. He wouldn't let anyone touch her, let alone harm a hair on that pretty head of hers as long as he could help it. He was determined to keep her safe.

Jack watched as she sat thoughtfully at the end of the bed, her hands shaking from the cold.  
>"What happened?" he asked Mackenzie of the man in the alley.<p>

She didn't look at him as she replied. It was all still a blur to her, and yet the guilt was eating her up inside, self-defense or not. "He attacked me," she explained. "I don't know why he did it. But I. . . I shot him. I didn't want to kill him, honestly, I didn't," she stopped, looking at her hands, and then raised her head to peer up at him from under thick lashes. "It was like my instincts just took over. It's all a blur, I don't even really remember much."

Jack nodded. "You gotta do what you gotta do, darling. Any idea who he was?"

Mackenzie shook her head, but reached into her cloak and pulled out a white kerchief from inside, holding it out to him. "No. But I found this."

The captain of the Black Pearl took it with a confident hand. He gazed upon the white cotton, to which nothing seemed suspicious, until he saw the initials K M sewn on the corner most carefully in black thread. _Kail McGrath_. "This was his?" Jack asked as he glared at the item. His eyes were nearly black, and Mackenzie couldn't help but to wonder if this was what normally happened when he got upset, all though his face showed no signs of distress or emotion. It was just those russet eyes. And once they locked with hers, she couldn't look away. It was like hypnotism.

"Yes," she replied.

"He worked for Kail McGrath," Jack spat out. "Did you know that?"

Jack knew of Kail? Somewhat confused as to why he seemed so angry at this bit of information, she supplied, "I had considered it, yes."

Those eyes narrowed at her. "Considered?"

"Maybe the initials are just a coincidence. His name could be Kenneth McKinney or Kevin Mae for all we know," Mackenzie complied. But then, after a short moment, her curiosity got the better of her. "How do you know Kail?"

Jack did not look happy at the mention of his name. "We go way back. He does with the both of us, in fact. Which comes to my next question; why were you in his room tonight?"

She frowned. "I didn't know who else to turn to. I do not know many people, obviously."

"You could have turned to me."

"Who, the strange man I only met ten minutes earlier in an unfamiliar, dark alley?" Mackenzie replied. "No thank you."

He removed his coat from his shoulders, tossing it on a chair beside the window. "I saved your life, love," he replied.

Jack noticed the way her blue eyes still lit up when she was angry. "It makes no difference," she told him. "Why are you so defensive all of a sudden?"

"I'm just trying to understand why someone would turn to a man who tortured her and left her to die," Jack snapped, his hands animated angrily as he spoke.

"What?"

Tortured? Could he be telling her the truth? Of course not, Kail would never do such a thing! Would he? After all, he was most suspicious at times. The night Mackenzie met him, she accidentally tripped as she was literally thrown out of a tavern [She had gotten herself into quite a nasty brawl with a man who allowed his hands to do a lot more touching than she preferred] and slammed right into Kail's chest. He cursed her at first, but then realizing that she was not just another pretty face, he suddenly became very friendly, asking her many questions. He explained that he was an old mate of hers and they hadn't seen each other in years; they had a lot of catching up to do.

Was this all a joke?

"I do not appreciate lying, Captain Sparrow."

Jack took a seat beside Mackenzie on the edge of the mattress. "I suppose he filled your head with nonsense, aye? Curled up close to you, convinced you he was your mate?" he shook his head at you. "The serpent has fruit to offer."

"Kail is… he would never… he was there when I needed him to be."

"Perhaps that it why you were weeping outside his door tonight, aye?" Jack replied knowingly.

Her defenses were completely falling and shattering around her like thin glass. "How do I know you are not the one lying through your teeth at this very moment?" she demanded from him. "You could be the serpent, the man filling my head with nonsense."

Suddenly, Jack snapped. He grabbed her rigidly by the arms with rough hands, the calloused pads of his fingertips digging into her flesh demandingly, but not violently. "Let me show you something, imp."

Jack yanked her to her feet, practically dragging her over to the mirror where he turned her around so her back was facing the mirror on the wall. The laces on the bodice of her dress were undone before she could blink, and his nimble fingers nearly ripped it off her torso as he tugged one side down, revealing a milky white shoulder blade to his view. Mackenzie was writhing under his gaze and touch, frightened and wanting to squirm away from him as quickly as possible.

"Look," he told her. Swallowing, she turned her head so she could gaze into the mirror. A small bird, a sparrow, was etched into her pale skin with careful lines of the most ebony of ink, revealing to her a relationship with the pirate. So he _was_ telling her the truth.

Jack reached out with rough fingers to trail the digits down the tattoo, causing a chill to roll down her spine. Mackenzie stood still, still on guard, but it seemed everything crashed down around her as her eyes fluttered shut.

The pirate leaned forward, pressing his lips gently to the ink, tracing the edges with his fingertips. There were long, thin scars that ran down her back that were very familiar to Jack, and it took a very long time for him to be able to look at or touch them because of the guilt that washed over him.

Something warm and tense began to build in Mackenzie's stomach, to which she drew the line. She quickly stepped forward, jerking herself out of his arms.

He watched as she begin lacing up the bodice of her dress, her back facing him. He could see how her shoulders were lifting with heavy breath, her small hands shaking. A sly grin pulled at Jack's lips; she felt his advances, and what scared her most is that she found yourself wanting more.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he said, a bit breathless himself. God, the feel of her skin under his fingertips... her scent... it was driving him up a goddamned wall! She was so close after they had been apart, and yet just as far away as ever.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Mackenzie told him, unable to turn around and look him in the eyes.

Jack shook his head. "There's no need for that. I won't bite," in example, he held his palms up in surrender. "Won't lay a finger on you, love, I swear it."

She turned to glance at him, and for a moment there he could swear she was _her_ again, but as quickly as the thought came, it was gone. "If you try, don't be surprised if you wake up without what makes you a man, Captain Sparrow."

His eyes instinctively narrowed at her. "Now, darling, there's no need to be making such unbearable threats. Have you any reason _not_ to trust me?"

_No_, she thinks. But then again, she doesn't have any reason not to trust anyone.

Mackenzie was always so peaceful when you slept. So innocent, so chaste. As she laid sound asleep beside Jack on the bed in the inn, her skin as white as the sheets and her dark hair framing her face, the pirate couldn't help but lie beside her and bask in the sight.

Hesitantly, he reached out and brushed a lock of hair away from Mackenzie's eyes, watching as she slept on without realization. Jack was mesmerized by the slight wrinkle to her brow, as though she was in a deep thought or dreaming something discouraging. He touched the worry line with his fingertips, just beside that deep cut on her temple, gently tracing it as though it would make it disappear.

And sure enough, a moment or so after that touch moved down to just barely graze your lower lip, all the signs of any discontent disappeared from her features.

"How could this have happened?" he whispered so quietly that the words barely left his lips.

She was lying close to him on her side, her cheek pressed against the back of her hand on the pillow, while the other arm was pressed against her side. They both were lying above the covers, a quilt covering Mackenzie's small body, and Jack sitting thoughtfully with his back to the headboard, his feet crossed at the foot of the bed.

No, this wouldn't do, he kept telling himself. He couldn't just sit here and do nothing. He had to do _something_. And once again he told himself that he would start with that bastard enemy she abruptly seemed to call friend. He rose to fetch his coat and hat, his thoughts set on finding Kail McGrath and having a nice chat with him. Would they settle this once and for all?

Something roused Mackenzie from a deep sleep. She blinked a few times in the darkness before sitting up, running a hand through her long, straight hair. Jack was no longer beside her, she realized. Had he left her alone? Something within her snapped and suddenly she didn't know what to do. It was strange; before she had wanted him to leave her alone and now the thought of being by herself frightened her to the point of chills.

Then, something moved in the darkness. "Jack?" she called gently, sleepily.

The figure came to stand at the bed beside her, and as he leaned closer, she could see the beads in his hair and the gold to his teeth. "Right here, darling." He was wearing his blue coat, hat, and boots.

"You're leaving?" Mackenzie questioned. It surprised the both of them to hear a sign of fear in her alto voice.

"I'll be back soon," he told her. "Ana Maria and Gibbs will be here until I return."

She blinked. Should these names register? Should they be familiar in some way?

Silence. Then, "Who?"

Jack smiled slightly; the action made her feel somewhat better, as though she had been forgiven for some gruesome sin. "Friends," he told her. Then, he reached out and touched her cheek, his fingers rough and warm. She swallowed and her eyes fluttered shut; the action was so simple but yet so effective.

"I'll be back soon."

As he turned to leave, she suddenly reached out and grabbed his sleeve, halting his actions. She was frightened that he would not return. Then, realizing her actions, she quickly let him go. "Fine. I don't care what you do." [_Please don__'__t go_.]

Jack watched as she frowned and rolled over, lying on her side with her back to him. He understood the thoughts going through her head at this moment. "I _will_ be back," he told her quietly. "Cross me heart."

And then, he was gone.

Mackenzie couldn't fall back to sleep. She was frightened and frustrated and most confused. The soldiers were still out for her freedom, she knew, all though Jack tried to assure her that they were no longer worried about the man's murder and they had given up last night. She knew he was just trying to make her feel better. And it had worked; for a little while, anyway.

Could she trust this pirate? Could she trust _anyone_? The tattoo of the sparrow did prove that she had some connection with Jack, but still she was reluctant. Or perhaps just paranoid, she considered. After all, she had trusted Kail and now look what has become of that situation. And what Jack had said about him torturing her and leaving her to die? Could this be true? Why would Jack lie to her about such a thing? If only she could remember!

She heard noise from outside the door. Mackenzie laid still, forcing her breathing to even and closing her eyes as though she was still in her sweet slumber. Could this be the AnaMaria and Gibbs that Jack had mentioned? And what were they to do, watch her until he came back? Suddenly she felt like a small child, like she needed to be watched lest she would do something foolish. Or perhaps Jack feared that she would try to run off? This consideration made her feel most like a criminal. Her thoughts went back to the man in the alley earlier tonight. She had killed him, and now the redcoats were looking for her. She _was_ a criminal. Or maybe Jack was actually protecting her?

The door opened, followed by the sound of unfamiliar voices. "Do you think she is asleep?" AnaMaria whispered.

"Aye," Gibbs replied, "Close the door behind yourself, will you?" Mackenzie heard it click in response.

"She looks a mess," AnaMaria said thoughtfully. "All bruised and whatnot."

There was silence, and then Gibbs' voice broke the thin glass reverie. "She must have put up a hell of a fight."

"Obviously, or she would be dead. Jack said the man worked for Kail McGrath. Do you think he knows about her situation or the attack was just a coincidence?"

The realization of rumpled clothing moving about sounded for a moment before coming to a stop. They had taken seats and were settling themselves in your room. "He knows," Gibbs told her. "I guarantee it, lass."

AnaMaria gazed upon Mackenzie's slumbering form in the bed, her body lying above the covers. Her hair was darker than she remembered, and her skin paler. The blue and purple marks that marred the left side of her face looked most painful and unpleasant. She frowned as she could have never imagined her looking like this previously; AnaMaria didn't _want_ to see her looking so frail, so bruised and broken. Mackenzie was her friend, after all.

"Jack's feeling guilty," the female pirate said suddenly. "I could see it in his eyes."

"Aye," Gibbs remarked. "He let her get away, and now look what has become of her."

Let her get away? If her and Jack were so close and so intimate as he had lead her to believe, then why would she _want_ to get away from him? Was there more to her and Jack's relationship that he had not told her?

*****  
>Captain Jack Sparrow was not a pirate any man wanted to make an enemy.<p>

"Are you mad?" Kail McGrath laughed. "I found her, just as you did."

Suddenly, he found himself slammed into the wall behind him, a pain spreading quickly throughout his skull and the Caribbean's most feared pirate standing before him. "You knew who she was. What were your reasons for taking her in? Revenge, again?"

Kail shrugged, a smug smile still pulling at his lips. "I wasn't going to show her the knife again, if that's what you're thinking, Sparrow. I don't use one torture method more than once."

The muscles in Jack's jaw twitched as he glared at the man before him. His patience was about to snap, but he hadn't given up yet. "If you're at fault for her sudden memory lapse, believe me when I say no one will even know you are gone."

The bastard laughed once again. "Get off your high horse, Sparrow. I didn't do a sodden thing to her memory. How would I even begin to do something like that?" he asked smartly. "I'm good, pirate, but I'm not _that_ good."

Jack narrowed his eyes at him and reached up to snatch a kerchief from his coat pocket. "Look familiar?" he questioned, waving the white fabric before the man's eyes.

"It's a kerchief."

"With your initials, none the less," Jack explained. "I'm sure you heard about a man's murder earlier this evening? This was in his possession."

Kail did not look surprised. "What are you suggesting? That I killed him? Talk to your girl about that one, Sparrow. That conscience of hers is eating her up."

Jack rolled his eyes. "I know she killed him. The question is, why would you send someone after her when you could have killed her yourself? You had the chance."

Suddenly, a rugged grin lifted Kail's lips. "T'was a test," he explained.

"A test?" the pirate repeated.

But before he could get any response out of the man, the pounding of heavy hooves and shouting came from the window. Jack peered out through the glass, frowning to see a line of redcoats racing down the road. They were coming for Mackenzie, he knew. Something inside of him told him it was true.

"Better follow 'em, Sparrow," Kail said with a grin. "Got to save the damsel in distress. Not that it'll do any good in the long run, mind you."

Forgetting all about Kail McGrath and his inevitable hate towards the man, the Captain of the Black Pearl was out that window in second, sliding down the roof and jumping off the edge. He landed with a most graceful roll to his feet and was in full sprint in less than a minute. He had to get to her before the red

coats did. If not, he wasn't sure what he would do.

There was so much racket outside that it caused Mackenzie to shoot up straight in the bed. It was the red coats, she knew. They had come for her freedom, and where was Jack? Hadn't he told her that they were off her trail and everything would be all right? Apparently he was very wrong. Perhaps he was just being hopeful, she considered. Or maybe he was at fault for it all.

At the sound of her name, Mackenzie looked over at the young woman standing by the door. She had dark skin and surprised eyes. "Are you all right, Mac?"

She scrambled from the bed. "I have to go."

"What? Go where?"

"Relax, lass. We won't hurt you," Gibbs came to stand beside her, one hand reaching out to touch her arm.

Mackenzie instantly stepped away from him, looking at the two as though they were horribly mad. "The horses," she insisted. "Don't you hear them?"

Gibbs moved aside the curtains with a dirty hand and peered out the window with a frown. "What about them?"

"The redcoats," she pressed. "Don't let them in."

The two watched in confusion and shock as she quickly slipped on her knee-high leather boots and rushed to the door. But as soon as her fingers flayed to the handle, heavy footsteps began pounding down the hall.

"Shit," Mackenzie snapped, and moved to the window, "Shit!"

She was near panicking, but before she could make her escape, someone reached out to grasp her arm and simultaneously waste moments of the precious time she had left.

"We're under strict orders here," AnaMaria told her. "I cannot allow you to leave."

Before she could blink, Mackenzie's pistol was cocked and between her eyes. "This is life or death for me, and I won't allow you or Jack Sparrow to decide my fate." And with that, she was between those curtains and out the window.

Gibbs pulled his flask from his vest pocket with a thoughtful movement. "Jack is going to have us flogged for this."

AnaMaria sighed. "I suppose we'll have to go after her, then."

There was a pounding at the door. Frowning, Gibbs took a step forward and reluctantly pulled it open. A soldier in red immediately stepped forward, a most concentrated look on his young, clean shaven face and a dark curl hanging over one eye. "I'm looking for a woman," he explained. "Blue dress, dark hair. She was with a man who paid for this room. The man at the desk said he looked like one of those eclectic sailors that come in and out."

Gibbs was not good with pressure. He opened his mouth, expecting to hear some unplanned gibberish in response, only for AnaMaria to step forward and speak on their behalf. "The only sailors here are the two of us."

Another man, the same accusing soldier from the tavern, pushed past them with dark, blazing eyes and chilled skin. "Search the room," he ordered. He didn't care about the two in the room; all he cared about was finding Mackenzie.

Three more red coats entered, searching through closets and drawers and even lowering to their knees to peer under the bed. Nothing. They found absolutely nothing. "Officer Abram," a man dropped his hands and gestured about the room with an annoyed glance. "There is no sign of her here."

Fabian Abram, a most testy and impatient man, groaned and peered out the window into the street. The sun was just beginning to rise and already there were people walking about to their jobs and men at the docks. "I knew it was her the moment I saw her," he said to himself. "I should have slapped her in irons when I had the chance."

The men began filing out the door. The last nodded at the two members of the Back Pearl's crew -not that he knew this information- and closed the door behind him to leave them with their thoughts.

Gibbs shook his head at the memory of Mackenzie climbing through that window; he supposed some things would never change. "Always told Jack that lass was trouble. Bad luck, she is!"

AnaMaria began climbing out onto the roof. "Are you coming or not?"

He grumbled, taking one last swig of his drink before tucking it back close to his heart. "This has to be breaking the code in one way or another."

The sun was shining red and yellow in the sky as Mackenzie pulled the hood of her cloak over your head, hoping no one would recognize her. She escaped from the inn without much fuss, but where did she go from here? Something in her head told you to find Jack [his scent was on her clothing and fresh on her senses] but what good would that do? For all she knew, he could have led her straight into that trap on purpose.

"You must have fantastic luck," a sudden voice called from behind her. "Most murderers are hung not a day after their crime is committed in this town. Are you surprised to see the sun rise?"

She whirled around to see none other than Kail McGrath following her, a confident grin set upon his handsome but untrusting face. "No," she replied. "But I am surprised to see you."

"Is that so?"

"Why after going through the trouble to kill me on more than one occasion would you befriend me the way you did?" Mackenzie asked him. More than anything at this moment she wanted answers.

Kail did not look fazed. "He's filling your head with nonsense, I see."

She was tired of all the lies. "I know the man who attacked me worked for you, Kail. I'm no fool."

"Aren't you?" he responded in the thickest Irish accent. "You don't know who to trust, or who anyone is, or where you are... you don't even recognize your own name for Christ's sake! You don't have any idea when you're being fooled, my dear."

She narrowed blue sea eyes at him. "And the kerchief stuffed in the man's pocket with your initials? How do you explain that, Kail?"

He shrugged, adoring that spark in her bright eyes when she became angry. He both loathed and lusted after her in the most intense of ways. "Pure coincidence."

Mackenzie swallowed any of the emotion that her body dared to show. "You're a liar."

The moment she turned on her heel and began to walk away, he reached out and pulled her back. "He's lying to you, dove, can't you see that? Why would I send someone to have you killed? I could have done it myself."

"I don't know," she snapped in all honesty. "Why would you torture me and drop me on the deck of Jack's ship to die?"

For a long moment, Kail McGrath was silent. "And you believe this nonsense? Can't you see that Sparrow is playing you?"

She watched him carefully. "How do you know about Jack?"

A sly grin captured his lips. "Perhaps you should ask said pirate where he ventured off to last night."

"It makes no difference," she told him.

"Why is it that you believe his word over mine?"

Mackenzie thought about this for a moment. Was it the tattoo? The familiarity? Or perhaps the fact that he seemed to know every little thing about her? The simple things that wouldn't mean anything to anyone else, Jack knew and wanted her to know. He wanted her to remember. It could be that spark of adrenaline every time his skin brushed hers, or maybe the comfort she felt when with him. When alone with Kail she felt uncomfortable and [guilty?] damaged underneath that scrutinizing gaze. And that was enough for her to feel that something was very wrong.

"Do I have any tattoos?" she asked him suddenly.

"What?"

She seemed so curious and innocent. "Do I have any tattoos?" she repeated.

"No," he replied, "Save for the one on your back."

"My back?"

Kail nodded. "Left shoulder blade, there's a bird."

A smile lifted at her lips. The tattoo of the sparrow was just below her _right_ shoulder blade, and Jack had mentioned this to her in the very beginning, as well as knew exactly where to show her last night in the inn. Why did she believe Jack's word over Kail's? Because Kail's word never seemed to add up. But, of course, this didn't mean she trusted Jack Sparrow completely either.

"Goodbye, Kail."

As she turned around, Mackenzie swore she saw something move in the shadows. She narrowed her eyes, hoping to see more in the darkness and ruble in the alley, but nothing was there.

"This town is nothing more than ghosts and deceit," Kail McGrath warned, yelling after her. "You'll be killed before you will discover why you are here. That I promise you."

She never looked back. "A Ghost Town. I'll remember that."


	3. An Inescapable Tune

**Chapter Three- An Inescapable Tune **

The streets were frighteningly quiet. Even with the sun beginning to rise and the people walking by, they did not say a word and did not glance at Mackenzie as she stayed out of their way and to the shadows. The wool cloak over her shoulders kept her sheltered from the early morning breeze and its hood kept her disguised from prying eyes. She looked down at the soiled hem of her powder blue dress and her scuffed brown boots; where was she to go from here?

Then, as she turned to slink back into the alley, something made her freeze in her cautious movements. There stood Jack Sparrow, leaning confidently back against the wall and watching her with a knowing, wry smile. "You really shouldn't be wandering off all by your onesies, darling," he said to her.

Mackenzie frowned. "If I had not, I would be locked up in the prison at the moment."

"Course not, darling," he promised. "Gibbs and AnaMaria were there with you."

She scoffed, certainly displeased by this statement. "Yes, and what good they did."

Why had he asked them to come to the inn, to watch over her while he was away? They did not even lift a finger against those redcoats that were obviously hunting her. If she had not threatened AnaMaria with her pistol or climbed through that window in time, she would probably have her head in a noose right now. The thought alone gave Mackenzie chills.

"It will not do you good to be insulting me crew, love," Jack told her with a calm, steady voice.

His cool exterior and cocky grinning was really starting to get on her nerves; she couldn't understand how he could be so calm and act so jokingly when she could barely keep herself from falling to his feet, weeping for release from it all. She was not sure how long she could last before breaking; it had been far too long since she had remembered a thing, and she was a very impatient person, to say the least. But who could blame her?

She ignored his comment. "Where did you go?"

"Had to pay a visit to a friend," the pirate told her.

"You mean Kail," Mackenzie replied, not missing a beat.

Jack was somewhat surprised at her wit and strong-willed acquirements at this point, although he couldn't remember her ever being any different. Which is exactly why it surprised him; little things she said to him or the tone she used in her alto voice made him look twice in her direction every so often. At moments, it was easy to forget that she wasn't the same person.

He nodded. "Aye."

"But you and Kail are not very friendly," she reminded him.

And then again, sometimes her innocent questions or accusations reminded him of the sudden absence in her own body more than he would like to admit. Nonetheless, the most naive sound in her voice made him smile like the devilish creature he believes himself to be.

"Just checking up on things," Jack said. He reached out in order to press his palm to the small of her back and began leading her back down the alley she had just come from. "Now, love, we best be on our way."

Her brow creased. "On our way where?"

"To the _Pearl_, of course!"

Mackenzie dug her heels into the ground in order for the both of them to come to a complete stop. Jack turned to glance at her curiously, wondering what the problem was. "I'm not leaving on the _Black Pearl_ with you, Jack," she told him firmly.

"'Course you are!" he pressed. "What is left for you here, pet? Nothing but the gallows!"

She shook her head. "Everything is here. Kail told me I was here in this town for a reason, and I refuse to step foot off this land until I find what that reason is."

Jack's hand was animated as he spoke, flailing this way and that in the crisp, smoky air. "He also mentioned that you'd be dead before you realized what that reason was," he reminded her, his breath visible in the chilly air.

This response made Mackenzie stiffen, on account there is no way Jack could know this information. Not unless...

"You were _spying_ on me!" she spat.

The pirate smiled. "Only a little."

She spun on her heel and began walking the opposite way. He was spying on her? What sort of a man was he, anyway?

"Where are you running off to?" he questioned, quickening his pace to a quick, smooth jog until they were walking side by side.

"You are a wretch of a man, Jack Sparrow," she accused.

Said wretch wrapped an arm about her waist and quickly turned her so she was suddenly pressed up against the wall of the building, his hands pressed to the stone at either side of her head and his face close to hers.

"Aye," he breathed, that sly, side-ward smile lifting his lips as those dark eyes scanned very slowly from her boots to her lips. "I'm a filthy, dangerous and utterly infuriating wretch. And that's exactly what you like about me."

The feel of his chest [warm and toned as far as she could tell], pressed against hers was causing a bit of a distraction. And in that moment, Mackenzie couldn't decide if said distraction was good or bad. "That's not true," she was able to say.

His chocolate eyes were tracing along the delectable, soft, fair skin at the base of Mackenzie's throat. He had her just where he wanted her now, pressed up against him and curiosity sparkling dangerously in her almond eyes. And much to his surprise, she was not even struggling against him. Not that it would matter much if she did. One kiss and she would be a goner, he knew. It had worked the first time, hadn't it?

Jack can remember gazing along the exposed golden skin, the frustration in her eyes and the curl to her wet, dark hair. He can remember the way her golden skin felt beneath his hands as he traced two calloused fingertips down her slender neck, her breath hitching in her throat and the quickening of her heartbeat. She tasted like salt water, and it dripped off her clothing and ran down her curls into small puddles on the deck of his ship.

He briefly wondered if she still tasted the same, even after all this time… _Of course she did_, he reprimanded himself right away, and she was still his girl after all. Just a little… confused.

"It's very true," Jack told her, snapping out of his reverie.

Mackenzie swallowed, fighting against the need to close her eyes at the feel of his breath against her nape. The heat of his skin pressed to hers was making her dizzy, and she could feel a blush spreading to her cheeks. "Why do you think that?"

He grinned. "You told me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I did not tell you such a thing."

"Ah, but of course you did, love," Jack Sparrow began, trailing the two pads of his middle and index fingers down her throat, his dark eyes concentrated on the goose bumps he was causing to rise on her skin. "You just don't remember."

She didn't know, but Jack was holding himself back to his fullest extent. Never had he had to restrict himself this much, had to hold himself back from pressing against her, or any woman for that matter, to that wall behind her and taking her as he pleased. He never had to worry about losing her trust or frightening her in any way. After that first kiss and the first night he made love to her, he hadn't worried about doing something she would regret. But now... now she was different. She didn't remember him. She didn't remember stolen kisses or mornings in the rain. She didn't remember humid nights on the Pearl with Jack inside of her, the windows open and covers pulled back as he made love to her.

Mackenzie didn't remember sweat slicked bodies or a man's touch. She didn't remember any of it.

"Darling," Jack said, closing his eyes in thought. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

There was a feeling in her stomach which she did not understand. But the moment his hand moved from her waist to her hip, his fingers gently moving back in forth in a simple relaxing caress, she realized what that tense sensation was. She wanted more. More to remember, more to taste, more to touch with her hands. She wanted to know more of _him_, plain and simple. He seemed to know her well enough. It was sexual tension.

She swallowed. "Jack?"

Jack's eyes opened instantly. He recognized that sound in her voice, the husky caress to his ears causing his hands to tighten on her waist and hip. God, he wanted her. And he would take her right then, right there, if things were different. He would kiss her again and again and press her back with his hips, gathering her skirts up with his hands so he could slip beneath them. He would- _stop_. He had to stop. If he continued to think about such things, he wouldn't be able to control himself any longer.

"We should get a move on," he told her, turning away.

"To where?" she asked, slightly disappointed but relieved at the same time. Mackenzie's dark shapely eyebrows were raised, the look on her face slightly wounded. Had she done something wrong? She mentally slapped herself; there was no reason to be feeling such a way.

He began making his way down the crowded street again, being sure she was at his side. "Somewhere safe; I know of shelter right outside town. Might find some good there for you too."

"Do I know this someone who provides said shelter?" Mackenzie pressed further.

Jack glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Well, not at the moment."

His pirate lass rolled her eyes. "_Did_ I?"

"Aye, that you did."

She was hesitating, biting gently at her bottom lip and looking back towards the center of town nervously. Should she follow him? He hadn't done anything to prove her wrong so far, only knew facts about her that she didn't even know. Then again, so did Kail.

Jack reached out towards her and extended a dirtied, scratched palm. "Trust me, love."

The look in his coal-rimmed eyes was so pleading and intense that Mackenzie almost felt hypnotized by it. "Well," she said, not taking his hand but walking past him, swinging her hips. "Who are they? More pirates?"

Jack went still. "Pirates? What makes you say that?"

He had not mentioned anything to her about pirates. He had, of course, told her that he was the captain of the Black Pearl, but he did not think she had enough memories surfaced that she would put the two together. He was not trying to deceive her, but rather trying not to scare her away. The first time he spoke with her in that alley she was shaken. She was unstable and nervous. Therefore, he was most careful with his words.

"Kail," Mackenzie replied. "He called you a pirate. Was he right?"

Jack nodded. For a moment there, he had gotten his hopes up. He was still holding on to every bit of hope that she would remember. He exhaled, suddenly noticing he had been holding his breath. "Aye," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Aren't pirates supposed to be terrifying?"

"Rascals, scoundrels, villains and knaves," Jack said in a sing-song tone, laughter in his voice at her question.

"Drink up me 'earties, yo ho," she whispered quietly to herself as she continued the song, not even realizing the words had left her lips.

Once again, Jack froze, gazing at her with wide, surprised eyes. "What did you just say?"

Mackenzie opened her mouth, about to reply, when suddenly she realized what she had said. Where had it come from? And why was a tune suddenly in her head? She pressed her lips together, a look of utter confusion written across her fair features.

Jack smiled. "We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot..."

"...We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot," she continued, her bright eyes growing just as wide as his. The words were careless as they fell thoughtlessly from her lips. A memory. "Drink up me 'earties, yo ho."

Jack grabbed her up into his arms and swung her around in excitement, her skirts twirling with the movement. When he realized his actions, he put her down right away, but still couldn't hide the smile on his face, his gold teeth bared.

Mackenzie confessed with a laugh, "The melody is so clear in my head!"

"My favorite song!" he explained to her. "I sing it all the time on the _Pearl_. You've probably heard it as many times as I've called you love, love."

She could tell by his bright eyes that his excitement was genuine. If he wasn't really who he was saying he was, Jack was a fantastic actor, Mackenzie decided. He knew so many things about her, so many details that she imagined would be hard to pretend. And now he's triggering bits of memories?

"Did I live with you on your ship, Captain?" she asked him, trying not to hum as they walked close to the buildings, staying close to the shadows.

Jack grinned, placing his dirtied palm on her back and leading her. "Aye, that you did."

She pushed a wind-blown lock of auburn hair out of her face so she could see him better. "I was a pirate as well, then."

"That you were."

"Was I a pirate before you met me, or did I follow in your footsteps?" Mackenzie asked, having a million questions to ask him. She wanted to know everything. She was desperate to remember again; perhaps something else he said would spark a memory.

With a flash of gold teeth, the look on Jack's face was nostalgic and pleasant as he responded to her inquiry. "You were a pirate the day I met you, love. Quite a good one at that. Instead of following in _my_ footsteps, you followed in your brother's," he explained to her. "He raised you for the most part."

She remembered something he had said earlier and interjected, "Because my father was a drunk?"

He nodded, and a pang of empathy sprung in his chest for Isaiah. It would kill him if he knew what was going on with her, and as a matter of fact, he would probably kill Jack for not stopping it when it happened. He was extremely protective over her.

"What is his name?"

Jack reached out and grabbed Mackenzie's arm as he observed how she almost tripped over a loose cobblestone, and lead her between two buildings to a large wooden area. She was always adorably clumsy and yet so simultaneously graceful.

"Isaiah," the pirate responded. "We were supposed to meet him in Tortuga a few weeks from now."

"Are we not any longer?"

He lead her down a small grassy slope and into the patching of woods, turning around to make sure that they weren't being followed for about the hundredth time. "'Kenzie, you don't even recognize your own name, love. And the last time your brother and I talked the talk, I promised to take care of you and all that. Obviously, I'm not very good at taking care of things. After all, half the time I'm too drunk to even take care of meself."

Mackenzie laughed and something in Jack's stomach sank. It was wonderful to hear that noise again; the sound of her laughter always sounded so sweet and pleasant, like bells. It felt like a good release for her, too. "I'm sure you're not that bad, Jack. We'll get you a fish to put in a bowl or something."

Jack reached out and lifted a loose branch out of their way so she could walk under it and continue along their path smoothly. "You used to have a fish bowl on the _Pearl_," he told her with a chuckle. "Had two fish. One ate the other, and you were quite upset 'bout it all. I found it all very amusing. You hit surprisingly hard for a girl, by the way."

There it was again, that laugh. Jack closed his eyes for a brief moment to savor the sound. "I obviously didn't appreciate your humor of the situation, Captain," Mackenzie said, glancing back at him quickly with bright and playful eyes. "I must have cared for the one that became the meal."

"You didn't care about the fish, love. You were angry because I told you they would eat each other, and you just didn't want to admit I was right."

She raised a dark, shapely eyebrow. "So I was prideful, then. Must have gotten that from you."

"Me?" Jack denied. "I am _not _prideful."

Mackenzie stopped walking and gave him a look that told him she was not fooled whatsoever. "I have known you for… well, as far as I can recall, just a few hours, and I can already tell you are a very prideful man."

"Am not!" he corrected her.

With a smug smile on her face, she began her pace once more. "Whatever you say, Jack."

The frown on his handsome face was comical, but she refrained the urge to look at him so she didn't laugh at his reaction. "You're still just as infuriating as you were before, 'Kenzie. I'm impressed. Only you can have your memory swiped, and still know how to taunt me. It's like you do it to punish me."

As he says this, a certain feeling of nostalgia washes over her body in waves. _A memory._

Suddenly she has these moving images in her head of tripping on a fallen chair and her own feet in a large room with large windows. She would have had a nasty spill onto the floor boards if Jack wouldn't have caught her with cat-like reflexes just a moment before she would have crashed. His lips were mere inches away from hers.

"My compass, love," he said, extending an open palm.

She had a very playful expression in her eyes, but her face was serious. "Not even if you married me."

Jack looked incredibly shocked by this statement, but after a moment his expression became incredibly suspicious. He replied with a raised eyebrow, "'Kenzie, you despise the idea of marriage."

She burst out into laughter. "I know, but you should have seen the look on your face!"

He shook his beaded head at her, lifting her back to steady feet. "Why are you punishing me this time?"

"I'm not," she defended herself, but by the look on Jack's face and his knowing eyes, he was not fooled.

He lifted her up with strong hands and sat her on the edge of the table so her feet were dangling, and stood between her legs, palms flat against the wood on either side of her hips as he leaned in close to her. "Spill, love."

She sighed, defeated. "I hate Tortuga."

"How can any pirate _hate _Tortuga?"

Mackenzie laid back on the table so she could stare at the ceiling and not into Jack's face. "It's not easy when every woman on the island is following you around like a lost puppy, Jack. One man looks at me wrong and you're ready to put a bullet in his chest, so throw me a bone here."

''Am _not_ like that," Jack snapped back.

She rolled her eyes and sat up again so she could see his expression. "Kail McGrath?"

"That's different, love," the pirate said, dragging his hands across the table so his fingers now danced along her thighs.

"How?"

"I don't like the things I've heard about that bastard. And I don't like the way he looks at you, either."

Mackenzie's hands were animated with annoyance. "That's what you said at the last port when that man on the dock kept gawking at me."

Jack raised a ringed finger and pointed it at her accusingly. "No, that man looked at you like he wanted to bend you over the crates he was unloading! And you, my darling, should not be looked at like you're something to eat! Unless, of course, I am the one doing the looking! McGrath is a dangerous, man, 'Kenzie, and I want you no place near him."

She mumbled something under her breath that made his eyes narrow closely at her. Jack raised an eyebrow and gave her that 'don't talk back to me' look, which made her want to talk back to him all the more. "I'm a big girl, Sparrow. And you don't own me."

He took a step back, and immediately she missed the warmth his hands had left on her things. "Fine, fine," Jack replied, hands up and out in surrender. "Do what you want, love. And I'll do what_ I_ want. In _Tortuga_, when we dock there in a few hours."

Jealousy was a green-eyed monster that Jack and Mackenzie both struggled with. Jack was very protective, as men often are, but he never admitted of his jealous habits, only made excuses. Mackenzie tried to ignore they were there until she would finally blurt her opinion out in such an awkward girlish way that made Jack laugh. He would never tell her, but it was sort of adorable.

She reached out and grabbed fistfuls of his blue coat and pulled him back, wrapping her legs around his waist and laying back on the table, urging him to follow. As she wished, Jack crawled up on the table with her, hovering over her body, his long dreadlocks falling down across her chest and beside her face to drape with her own hair.

"Why do you always have to win?"

Jack gave her that famous, gold-toothed grin. "Because, love, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!"

Mackenzie snapped out of her reverie as she tripped over a thick root sticking three or four inches out of the ground, expecting to topple down the dirt covered slope. However, Jack caught her just as he did in her sudden memory, and when she opened her eyes, they were automatically drawn to his lips, hovering a mere inch above hers.

He had such an urge to kiss her, then [Her kiss was the only one that had ever meant anything]. His eyes concentrated gently on the soft curves of her lips, the warm pink color that beckoned him in. He could remember her kiss, the taste of her mouth, the way she would bite his lower lip just right, always growing excited by the growl that erupted from his chest…

"Jack?"

The pirate cleared his throat loudly. "Aye?"

She seemed breathless. "I think I just remembered something."


	4. Journals

Hey, guys, thanks for all of the support with this story, whether you've been reviewing, e-mailing me, or simply adding this to your alert lists. It's great to see a lot of Lady Fair reviewers. Your feedback is amazing and greatly appreciated! Keep it coming, please! It keeps me motivated to write and update.

**Chapter Four- "Journals"**

"What?" Jack managed to blurt out.

Mackenzie was in a daze as he righted her. She felt as though she was in a dream and he held her arms there to stabilize her. "You and I were in a large room," she described to him, her sparkling eyes concentrated on something before her, yet something he couldn't see. "And I was embarrassed to tell you I hated Tortuga because of the women there. You told me to stay away from Kail."

She was interested by the serious, thoughtful look on Jack's face. "Aye, I remember. We were on the _Pearl_, probably two years ago."

She smiled at him. "I haven't remembered anything in weeks, and suddenly you come along and I remember twice in one day."

Jack remembered what it was like when she used to gaze at him like that. He missed it greatly. "We have a lot of history, love," he said soberly, and turned away from her as he took steps further into the woods.

As they walked, Mackenzie took advantage of Jack's thoughtful silence and re-played the memory over and over again in her head, as though if she memorized it, she would never forget it again. Jack said it had happened years ago, and as she starred at his back as he led them through the damp trees, she tried to find anything that seemed different about him from her memory. His hair was longer, the dread locks and braids hanging far past his shoulders. But that was it. His face, his coat, his posture, was all still the same.

"Jack?"

He glanced briefly over his shoulder at her. "Aye?"

"Will you tell me more? About you, about me, about us? Anything?" she pleaded. "I want to know more. Perhaps you will spark more memories."

The pirate smiled gold teeth. "Perhaps. Well, pet, the most important thing is you love rum, as do I, therefore we get along swimmingly… which is ironic, because I had to teach you how to swim."

Mackenzie raised an eyebrow, grabbing onto his coat sleeve as she almost lost her balance on a dirt mound as part of it crumbled apart beneath her boot. "Didn't know how to swim? I sound like an awful pirate," she confessed with a frown.

Jack laughed, a hearty chuckle from deep within his chest. "Your brother tried to teach you, but you weren't having it. I got you in the water, however, and now you have the second best dive in the Caribbean!"

She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a large building in the distance, between the mass of trees. "Let me guess… do you have the first?"

"Naturally, love."

Mackenzie nearly jumped ten feet in the air as someone shouted through the green, "Jack!"

He grabbed her before she took off running. "It's all right, 'Kenzie, it's just Lennon."

The man was sprinting towards them. "Mac! Jesus, Jack, you found her! Dalia will be so relieved, she's been a nervous wreck for-" Lennon, as Jack called him, came to a halt a few feet from them in the dirt and weeds. "Mac?"

Jack knew by the look on his face he knew something was wrong. Jack placed his hands on Lennon's shoulders. "Mate, do I have a story for you!"

* * *

><p>The house was very large and very beautiful. Mackenzie had always adored the volume of stained glass and artwork, while Jack was fond of all of the open space. The heights of the doorways were extreme and rounded at the top, and every table had a vase of flowers. Jack remembered how Mackenzie had always found them so refreshing. She caught herself when she almost said aloud that she had never seen anything like it, because she was sure she had at one time or another.<p>

Lennon was a tall, blonde man with strong cheekbones and kind, honest eyes. Dalia had a tiny, fragile looking form with waist length hair and tan skin. Mackenzie could tell a very strong bond between the two immediately- lovers, but neither of them wore a wedding ring. Then again, neither did she or Jack, and judging from her memory, they were no doubt involved. Her memory from earlier buzzed in her head with Jack's voice claiming, "'Kenzie, you despise the idea of marriage."

Mackenzie followed Dalia down an open hallway that lead to a flight of stairs. Jack and Lennon resided in the parlor, and she was sure they were discussing her and her memory loss. She could tell Dalia was anxious to get back to them.

"You have a beautiful home," she told the dark haired woman, who was half a head taller than she. "I wish I could remember it."

The look on Dalia's face was pleased, yet sad as she glanced over her shoulder as they proceeded up the mammoth staircase. "Thank you. Lennon does most of the artwork. He's far more talented than I."

Mackenzie's eyes grew wide. "The two of you did all of this?"

Her gaze caught a painting of a ship at the top of the last step, the colors so rich and the brush strokes so pristine. She couldn't believe someone could create such beauty.

"Some are other artists we've collected over the years," Dalia explained, rounding the corner into a hallway. She stopped at the last door and said, "This is your room. All of the belongings are yours, so feel free to go through anything you wish."

She opened the door to reveal a large room with an inviting bed, a beautiful vanity with a gold plated mirror, and walls lined with bookshelves and heavy bookends. "All of this is mine?" Mackenzie gaped.

"You lived with us quite a few years ago, and visit often with Jack. We've always just kept it the same," Dalia explained, and then suddenly she pulled Mackenzie into a tight, desperate hug. "I'm glad you're all right, Mac. I was so very worried, but I knew Jack would find you. I wish you would stop running off like that. You're going to give Jack a heart attack one of these days."

When she was released, Mackenzie swallowed thickly. "Run off? I do so frequently?"

Dalia laughed, but it was gentle. "You like your space when you're upset. I'll have Rose draw you a bath, I'm sure that would help you to relax."

And with that, she left. Mackenzie stared at the doorway awkwardly. "Who's Rose?"

Taking a deep breath, she turned to glance closer around the room. Walking over to the shelves, she inspected hundreds of book spines, neatly set side to side. There was a changing screen that hid a dark green dress behind it, neatly draped across a chair. On the table beside the bed there was a quill and ink, as well as another book, but there was no title on the leather cover like the others. She opened it to find elegant, loopy handwriting, and knew right away it was hers. A journal. Closing the cover, but keeping it pressed close against her heart, Mackenzie moved towards the vanity.

She looked awful. Her dark hair was hanging off her shoulders lifelessly, dirt smeared across her pale white skin and hiding sun kissed freckles. The cut across her forehead looked angry. Sighing, she turned her attention elsewhere as she noticed a smooth wooden box on the glass surface with small drawers. A jewelry box. The first item that caught her eye was a gold, detailed locket. When she opened it, however, there were no pictures inside. There wasn't a lot in the jewelry box, just a few simple pieces. For a pirate, Mackenzie expected more. Beside the box was a string of pearls hanging off a small mirror that stood upright on the vanity. She picked them up with small, nimble fingers.

"I gave you those for your birthday. My mum always said every woman should have a pair of pearls."

Jumping, Mackenzie turned towards the voice to see Jack standing in the doorway. Exhaling thankfully, she said, "You scared me."

He smiled and she noticed something in his dark eyes. Sadness? There seemed to be a lot of that in the house. She wasn't the same, and they missed her. She didn't know how to be the old Mackenzie again. It made her sad too.

"Apologies, love. What do you have there?" he pointed to the book pressed to her chest.

Mackenzie gazed at it. "I think it's a journal."

"Ah," he said, and walked towards one of the shelves on the left side of the large bed, between two windows, a shelf she hadn't yet visited. "You have filled up many of those."

Mackenzie followed him and realized he was right- there was at least seven more. "I didn't even know pirates could read, let alone write."

Jack reached behind a gold bookend shaped as a fish and pulled back a bottle of rum before handing her a book with a thick cover. He uncorked it with his teeth and took a swig before responding, "You and I are not normal pirates, 'Kenzie."

She took a seat on the bed and watched as Jack ran his fingers along the spines of the other journals before he followed suit. "Did you ever read my journals?" she asked him.

"Course not, love," he explained, "Everyone deserves their privacy. Not that I haven't been tempted, mind you. You would have beaten me if I had even tried."

Mackenzie laughed quietly, awkwardly. "I'm nervous to look in them."

Jack kicked off his boots and crossed his legs at the ankle, leaning back against the pillows. "Nonsense. You've always had too many thoughts in that pretty little head of yours. Perhaps it will help you remember."

She took a deep breath, excepting the bottle of rum as he handed it to her. It was a different taste than she expected it to be, and handed it back to Jack's eager fingers after a surprised gulp. She opened the journal to a random page and began reading.

_I was almost killed today. A man whom Jack angered in the past pulled out a pistol and pointed it towards him from across the tavern. I dove and knocked Jack out of the way of the bullet, but this hadn't been the worst of it. At that point, the entire tavern became crowded chaos. Drunken men were pointing swords at the innocent; shots were being fired every which way. When I charged at Jack I had knocked him onto the ground, my chest pressed intimately to his, simultaneously knocking the breath out of my lounges. We had never touched like this, and I was a little taken aback. His eyes met with mine, seemingly just as surprised, and I almost forgot that I needed to move off him if we wanted to get out of there unwounded or alive._

_As I jumped to my feet, I searched the pandemonium for the man who fired the first shot. He was quickly pushing and ducking his way through the bands of belligerent men to get to us. Before I had pondered a plan of action, Jack grabbed my arm and pulled me through a back door to the distillery. I looked around for an obvious exit, but there was none. _

_The man had followed us. "Jack Sparrow," he said. "My, it's been a few years, hasn't it?"_

_Jack's lips turned up into a quick, awkward smile and then back again to a thoughtful frown. "Three or four," he replied bogusly. _

"_I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you disappeared that day before giving me what is rightfully mine," the man told him, his pistol still placed with the intent to fire. He opened his palm and reached towards us. "My compass, if you will."_

"_I believe the rule is 'finder's keepers', if I remember correctly," Jack said with a finger on his chin._

_I rolled my eyes. Jack can be the most discouragingly stubborn man, and sometimes, such as situations like these, it can get very old very quickly. "Jack, it's just a compass. _I _will buy you a new one if it gets us out of here alive."_

_Jack turned towards me and opened his mouth to speak, but the man with the pistol beat him to it. "Ah, but it's not just _any _compass. Jack, of course, knows that."_

_Jack was suspiciously quiet._

"_What's so special about it?" I asked with a raised brow. All compasses did the same thing, as far as I knew. Sure, some looked aesthetically different, but I doubted Jack cared about that. Besides, it wasn't even _pretty.

"_Speaking of special," the man said, "You haven't introduced me to your _friend_ here, Sparrow. Finally settled down, have you?"_

_I didn't like the way he was looking at me. It made my stomach uneasy. "Of course he hasn't," I remarked. That was humorous to even think about. Jack was a pirate, and even though I have known pirates with wives or partners, Jack was the most philandering of all. I spoke confidently and unyielding. "Mackenzie Bell. I'm a member of Jack's crew."_

_He offered his hand to mine in a polite gesture but I did not trust him enough to outreach my own. Jack pulled back on my sleeve so I was closer to him, creating more distance between myself and the armed man. "Now, now, Percy, let's leave the girl out of this."_

"_You want me to leave her out of it?" Percy, as Jack called him, shouted back, repositioning the pistol at my face. "You've already brought her into it, Sparrow. Now, hand me my compass, or _Ms. Bell _here, unfortunately pays for your mistake."_

_I was trying to conjure up a quick plan to get us out of the situation, but nothing was coming to me. I am not as creative or quick-thinking as Jack. I glanced out of the corner of my eye at him. As far as I could tell, Jack was amiss for a safe plan as well. "I would really appreciate if you would give the man his compass, Jack. Special or not, I'm not really keen on dying for it," I muttered to him._

_Jack was wincing. "It's a _really _special compass, love. More than you realize."_

"_So special that you're willing to let me die for it?" I hissed._

"_Well, if you're willing to take one for the team just this once…"_

"_I only have one chance, Jack, because I will be dead!"_

"_If cats can have nine lives, who is to say that you shouldn't too, love?"_

_Turning to slap him as hard as I possibly could, I noticed his eyes were set on something behind Percy's body. As I turned to see what was so interesting, Percy caught on as well. His neck moved to the side, only to be bludgeoned upside the head with a glass mug, his body falling limply to the floor._

_I watched in confused silence as a man I have never seen before began emptying Percy's pockets. Jack's mouth hung open in question as well, his hand coming up to scratch his head. The man looked up at us after a moment, as if forgetting we were there at all. "Did he owe you money, too?" _

"_No, no. Just a misunderstanding is all. Come now, love, we must be on our way," Jack said, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me quickly out the door and through the tavern. _

_Once we were outside, I punched him in the shoulder as hard as I could. "Seriously, Jack?" I ground out. _

_He rubbed the wound over his dark navy coat with a dirty hand. "What? Percy wasn't going to shoot you, love, don't be overdramatic!"_

"_He had a cocked gun aimed at my head, Jack!" I exclaimed, lifting my booted feet as I began walking towards the direction of the docks, my skirts swishing furiously with the movement. "I don't know about you, but when a man is that drunk, I don't trust him with a weapon, especially when he's angry, and it's pointed at my _head!_"_

_Jack was walking quickly to keep up with me. "The man is a lot more harmless than it looked, darling," he tried to explain to me. "He wasn't going to harm you."_

_I think I was just so frustrated and hurt and became so defensive that I snapped back at him, "Jesus, Jack, you are so selfish. You don't know everything, and whether you believe he was going to or not, you probably would have let me take the fall for your damned compass, anyway!" _

_He grabbed me by the arm and spun me around. His eyes were intense. I didn't care, in the moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it a few moments after. I don't think he really knew what to say. I shook my head at him and turned back around, walking back in silence to _The Pearl. _At that point, I just wanted to go to sleep._

_Once I was dressed for bed and in my stateroom, I began to feel guilty for what I had said to Jack. It wasn't very nice of me to have called him selfish, and I didn't mean it. I know Jack was probably just trying to distract Percy until he had a feasible plan, and the man was probably just as harmless as Jack had tried to explain. I don't think he would have let Percy shoot me. Jack isn't that kind of man. _

_I considered walking up the stairs to seek him out and apologize, but I did not want to face the awkwardness of it. I paced around the room for quite a few minutes debating on my actions, but paused when I heard a knock at the door._

_It was Jack. He stood in the hallway looking cumbersome, his arm coming up to lean against the doorway. "I, um," he cleared his throat, his eyes shifting down to his worn, dirty boots. _

"_I'm sorry, Jack," I beat him to it. "I didn't mean what I said. I know you wouldn't have let him shoot me."_

_His brown eyes met mine and I ran my hand through my long, straight hair. It seemed my fingers needed to find something to do. He took a step forward so he was much closer to me and suddenly I found his lips against mine in a tender, meaningful kiss._

_I had imagined what it would be like to kiss Jack once or twice before. The reality was not a disappointment. When the thought had entered my mind in the past I had chased it away, deeming the situation untouchable. The first time I had thought about it was when his hand had come to rest over mine when I was at the helm of The _Black Pearl _one night. It was quick and he was innocently directing my steering, I knew, but I couldn't help the illusion from controlling my thoughts._

_Jack's palms came up to cup my cheeks, and his right hand slid down to cradle my chin. My heart was beating so quickly and I felt as though I couldn't breathe. When his mouth parted from mine, I gasped in a quick desperate need for air, and a pleasant mewl sounded from my throat when his lips returned for more contact. The noise must have pleased him in some way because his hand moved to the back of my neck and buried in my hair, pressing me closer to him. _

_I wasn't sure when it had happened, but I realized I was grasping at Jack's coat, my knuckles white from clutching the fabric so intensely. A cloud of confidence and heat had overwhelmed me and I nipped at his bottom lip, electing a loud growl from his chest. Kissing Jack was euphoric. _

_I was surprised when his mouth was no longer moving against mine. His hands stayed tangled in my hair, and his forehead came down to rest against my own, the both of us breathing heavily. My cheeks felt hot and I knew I was blushing profusely. When I opened my eyes, he was watching me curiously. Then, he smiled and pecked my mouth quickly. _

"_Goodnight, 'Kenzie," he said simply, and walked out through the door he came in from. _

_I stood there frozen in shock for a long time, wondering if I had imagined what just happened. My kiss swollen lips were there to remind me that I had not._

_I have tried to fall asleep for a couple of hours now, but I cannot stop thinking about it. I'm glad I have written this all down so I will never forget how good it felt to be kissed by him. I now wonder what tomorrow will be like and if it will happen again. I'm not positive if I should feel this way, but I hope it does._

Mackenzie stared at the last couple of lines thoughtfully, her chest feeling tight and her heart heavy against her ribs. She looked up where Jack was leaning against the headboard of the bed, his arms behind his head and his eyes watching her thoughtfully.

"Must be something interesting in there," he said to her with a smile. "I don't think you've moved since you began reading."

Without even thinking, Mackenzie closed the journal and crawled over to him, curling up against his side and laying her head on his sturdy chest. He was warm, and smelled nice, and she desperately tried to remember what it felt like to have him kissing her so pleasantly.

"I hope I will not be so absent minded forever, Jack," she whispered.

"You won't, love," he said, petting her hair affectionately. She enjoyed the vibrations his chest made against her cheek as he spoke. "I'm sure of it."


End file.
